


Ice and Shadows

by browneyesandpurplehair



Category: Original Work
Genre: Elemental Magic, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Style, Folklore, Gen, Warrior - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4302441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/browneyesandpurplehair/pseuds/browneyesandpurplehair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when a great warrior finds herself with an unwanted shadow?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice and Shadows

She lies there sleeping on a bed of ice- once a fearsome warrior, she is now crippled and weak, her beauty marred by pain. Now and again she stirs, twitches, fights the slumber that holds her down, and you can feel the very earth shake, but then she returns to her restless trance. Frozen lips crack open, releasing puffs of warm air, the only thing breaking the stillness.

The legends, once told each night by the fire, have grown quiet, but the tales still bring hope of better times to those who remember. There was the year giants came to oppress the kingdom and she trapped them by asking the trees to move, or the time the rains forgot to come and she spoke to the skies to remind them. When the king’s newborn daughter grew ill, she prepared a potion made of secret herbs and a dragon’s tears. The princess recovered, and grew to be one of the kingdom’s strongest warriors. Then there was the Battle of the Ford, when the kingdoms to the west tried to invade and she picked them off one by one as they crossed the River Tamm until the aggressors fled. During the winter that attackers from the south captured the old and weak, the young and the vulnerable, she asked the stones to infect those who had seen human beings as objects to be owned. She led her people in a march north, to freedom, leaving statues as a grim reminder in her wake.

And her dancing, what stories have been told of her dancing! When she danced, people stopped what they were doing to stare. The littlest children turned circles to join her, and she would take them by the hand and twirl them until they burst into laughter. Those with heavy hearts felt their burdens grow lighter as they watched her. The rhythm of her feet was its own kind of music, and the very stars sung her praises. But then she met a stranger with fire in his eyes and ice in his heart, a creature made of shadows that no one else could see. He followed her around, a hindrance she could not shake. As she faced new challenges and foes, he stood there quietly, a bit too close, tripping her when she needed to attack, blocking her when she needed to escape. As time went on, she became slower and slower until she could no longer fight, let alone dance. And as she moved slower, he grew faster and stronger, swallowing her power and leaving her weak.

The people that once loved and praised her no longer had a use for her, and she drew away into the woods to be by herself. He followed her, always, a cruel reminder of the grace and strength she had lost, greedily siphoning the last of her power. She asked the earth for wisdom, the water for peace, the fire for strength, but she could no longer speak to them. Even in the quiet, she tried to find joy in the beauty of a flowing stream, a crimson sunrise, the companionship of the trees and wildlife, but she was too empty. Resigning herself to her fate, she found an empty cave and laid down to rest.

On the shortest day of the year, when the cold had reached its peak, a single tear rolled down her cheek. The shadow reached out to touch it, and as he did, he became solid. No longer a shadow, he was full of life, full of color, a handsome man with a sense of power about him. He left her there, denied of both the purpose of life and the peace of death, and set off to lay claim to the kingdom he had seen so much of.

He began humbly enough- he went to a small village nearby and asked the chief if there was anything that he could help with. The chief complained that his horse had been unruly of late, and the shadow man promised to help. He spoke to the wind and told it to frighten the horse if it would not obey the chief. Delighted, the chief insisted on having the shadow man over for dinner. Those in positions of power in the village were all enamored with him, but the townspeople were wary. There was something about that man, they said to each other. He is not to be trusted.

Next the shadow man went to a trade city and sought out the governor of the region. With a charming smile and a silver tongue, he asked the governor if he could be of any assistance. The governor thought for a moment, and then replied that some refugees had been coming into his city, and he didn’t much care for it. With a ruthless smile, the shadow man assured that he would look into it. And he did. He found where the foreigners had set up camp, and told the fire to feast on their shelters, their belongings, their flesh, until all that was left was ash, swept away by the wind.

The shadow man returned to the governor with news that his troubles were no more. The governor laughed and clapped him on the back, proclaiming a feast in the man’s honor. Everyone of high standing in the city gathered around the meal to hear imagined tales of bravery and cunning. And again, the commoners and the powerless warned each other of the stranger. Whispers spread of the refugees that had suddenly gone missing, wiped off the earth, and that the ashes settling on doorsteps and rooftops were what would happen to them if they angered this new man.

Pleased with how the leaders of the city had received him, the shadow man decided to go to the king. The king, a wise man, and well loved by his kingdom, was suspicious of this man who had come with all favors and no requests. The king turned him away kindly, but the shadow man was filled with rage.

He sent a letter to a neighboring kingdom, promising safe passage into the heart of the kingdom for a small army in return for control of a large city after the kingdom had fallen. The soldiers soon came, and the shadow man asked the darkness to hide them until they reached the castle gates. By the time the alarm bells rang out, the soldiers were already inside. But the shadow man had a plan- he rushed into the castle upon a stallion, black as ink, and drew his sword. He whispered to the stones in the courtyard to cling to the soldiers’ feet, and then he slew all the invaders, taking no pity on those begging for mercy. The king was so grateful to the shadow man for protecting the kingdom that he asked him to come live in the castle and train with his warriors. The shadow man accepted gladly. His plan had worked perfectly.

Living in the castle and training with the king’s warriors, the shadow man had many opportunities to spend time with the princess. He charmed her with tricks, and told stories that took her breath away. Over time, she came to fall in love with the shadow man. The king was pleased, and their wedding was magnificent, even if none of the commoners the king invited had shown up. The couple kissed to seal their vows, and if the princess seemed a bit faint afterwards, the shadow man seemed almost to glow.

A few months had passed uneventfully, except for a strange sickness that had befallen the princess, when the king and queen decided to visit the governor of one of the kingdom’s trade cities. They set off by horse with a few guards, but as they rode, the wind began to blow and rain began to fall. Seeking shelter under a tree, the king and queen were struck by lightning. The guards, terrified of the storm, brought the royal corpses back to the castle, where they were mourned and buried. A terrible accident, the guards said. What a storm! As the princess grieved for her parents, the people whispered that life itself had turned. While she used to fight for the good of the kingdom, she now brought storms and destruction. Some recalled the strange visitor that had spoken to fire, the one that had married their princess, and shivered in fear.

For indeed it was the shadow man who had spoken to the storm and commanded it to strike down the king and queen. And as soon as the princess dried her tears, she was crowned queen, and her husband appointed king. The shadows seemed stronger somehow that night, darker and more dangerous.

As the years have gone by, the new queen grew slowly sicker and sicker, until she could no longer leave her bed. Strange deaths were common among the nobles of the kingdom, and the king appointed his own men, cruel and greedy, in their places. The kingdom, once a safe and happy place, has become a place of fear. Tales of the old warrior are all but forgotten, and instead the people trade stories of a wicked king who can speak to fire and ice.

And somewhere, hidden in a cave, the warrior lies sleeping, waiting to be awoken. If someone were to break the hold of the man that sedates her, perhaps the kingdom would see freedom and peace again, but until that day she will wait, frozen, as another uses her strength.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by my personal journey with depression. I've often felt like something was sucking the life out of me, and that turned into a story.


End file.
